


The Pursuit of Happiness

by antigrav_vector



Series: CapIM bingo fills - 2016 [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Barebacking, Blowjobs, Cap_Ironman Bingo, Deepthroating, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Feeding, Hand Jobs, Improvised Sex Toys, M/M, Mile High Club, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sex, Shower Sex, Steve really enjoys Tony in a nice suit too, Steve really enjoys his brushes, Strip Tease, Suit Kink, Suit Porn, Teasing, Tony's tiny red thong, art kink, delayed gratification, finger worship, hints of breathplay, lots of foreplay, mild exhibitionism, mild finger kink, misuse of art supplies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 07:22:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6043084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antigrav_vector/pseuds/antigrav_vector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony had asked him about his kinks, and he'd had to think about that for a while... well, now he's got an answer, and a Plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pursuit of Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for the 'sensuality/sexuality' square of my bingo card.
> 
> Unbeta'ed.

Tony liked math, and that was a demonstrated fact. Well, Steve liked art, and knew it. He liked everything about it, from the very beginnings of the process of creating it to all of the accoutrements that went with it. Tony didn't know that about him yet.

He already knew he liked to get off in unorthodox ways; after the serum he'd discovered just how sensitive he'd gotten, and curiousity had killed the cat, as it were. He'd experimented once with his paint brushes, and that had been that. He'd never once lacked the tools to take care of himself, after that. He did, however, make sure to dedicate a set just to that, and clean them thoroughly each time he (ab)used them. He hadn't needed them in a while, and the original set had been on him when he'd gotten himself frozen. They'd been ruined, and he'd invested in a new set once things had settled a little after the Chitauri mess.

Thinking about it wasn't helping, though. It still left the question of how to tell Tony about his little quirk.

What he didn't know until recently was that he apparently also really liked fancy suits. On Tony, specifically.

Tony had shown up in the Tower late one evening, back from some formal event Stark Industries and the Maria Stark Foundation had thrown, in a still-mostly-immaculate suit, and it had sent a strong enough shot of lust through Steve to tell him he needed to investigate this in more detail.

He remembered the conversation he'd had with Tony after their first time -- the one about kinks -- and wondered if there was such a thing as a suit kink.

A short foray on the internet had convinced him. It also meant he spent a couple of rather pleasant hours jerking off to the mental image of Tony in some of the exquisite suits he'd seen. Mostly unintentionally.

This would require a plan.

After a long internal debate, Steve decided to take the direct route: ambush Tony after his next formal event.

It didn't take long for an opportunity to come up. There was some kind of unveiling in LA that SI was holding in two weeks. The catch was that Pepper had prodded Tony into inviting Steve along as his official plus-one. They hadn't announced their relationship publicly yet, but she thought it was time they did, and had picked one of the most public venues possible. Tony had, somewhat reluctantly, agreed. They had discussed doing something like this in passing, but he'd been enjoying having Steve more or less to himself.

In the two weeks that followed, Steve had found himself whisked away from the Tower repeatedly in the course of Pepper's quest to find him the perfect suit. Granted, she'd delegated the task to Natasha, but that wasn't the point. It had taken a lot longer than he thought had been truly necessary, and Natasha had spent quite a lot more of Tony's money than Steve had intended to, but eventually she was satisfied.

Thankfully, the remaining time passed without further incident.

When the event loomed, however, Steve found himself wondering if this hadn't been a mistake.

He'd been forced to adjust himself in his pants to keep from tenting them after less than half an hour around Tony -- just enough time for them to get to LaGuardia and onto Tony's private jet. He took advantage of the distraction scoping out the interior of the cabin gave him. The space was surprisingly open and airy, and a welcome relief. It stood in stark contrast to the dull grey interiors of the military planes he'd been inside before the ice, and while he'd never flown commercial he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it would never in a million years feature a fully stocked bar, kitchen, bedroom, or shower. And those were just the opulent fixtures that he spied on first glance.

A second revealed an enormous wide-screen television, wide bench seats that ran along either side of the front half of the plane, a dining nook tucked into a comfortable corner farther back, and something Steve couldn't quite identify. A large round area of the floor set about six inches below the rest, right at the center of the plane.

"Come on, Steve," Tony stepped past him, refocusing Steve's attention. "We can't take off until we're seated."

Steve couldn't help but stare at Tony's back for a long moment. That suit and overcoat... fuck. The suit itself _clung_ to Tony in all the best ways and in all the right places, leaving everything and nothing to the imagination. He'd gotten enough of a glance before they left.

Tony's coat and gloves were similarly fine and well-fitted, and Steve had to swallow every time he looked anywhere but at Tony's face.

He claimed the bench seat opposite Tony, hoping that he could reduce the temptation to mess up that very expensive suit by putting a little bit of physical distance between them.

In the end, he held out just long enough for the plane to reach its cruising altitude. He excused himself and hid in the large well-equipped bathroom to attempt to deal with the issue alone.

It was obvious Tony had his suspicions after Steve returned to his seat.

After the second such attempt, a half hour later, he smirked and caught Steve's eyes. "Something's got you on edge. Gonna tell me what it is?"

Steve considered. If he told Tony now, that left them two options: indulge now and try not to ruin their respective suits, or try to hold off until after the function.

It was an easy decision; Steve knew he wasn't going to be able to resist, one way or another. Not when he was trapped in a plane with Tony for several hours. "You asked me about my kinks that first night," Steve started, speaking slowly and trying to keep his tone level. "I didn't know what to say, then."

Tony looked almost thoughtful, at that. "And now?"

"Well, I can't take my eyes off you in that suit."

The statement got him a grin. "Formalwear does it for you?"

"No, not exclusively," Steve replied. "It's got to have you in it."

Tony laughed. "Well, that's easy enough to arrange. I've got plenty of suits. Rather not ruin this one, though. It's one of my favourites." 

Well, that answered one question. Steve wasn't sure whether this would be great or distilled torture.

"Think you can keep your hands off me long enough to get through the unveiling," Tony asked when he stayed silent.

Steve shrugged. "Guess we'll find out."

Tony was silent just long enough for Steve to be reminded that he'd brought a sketchbook and his brushes, in addition to his shield. It was ingrained habit and he hadn't even thought about it until now. It made him wonder what it would be like to ask Tony to use the brushes to get him off, and, fuck, that really was _not_ helping the issue.

The suggestive smirk on Tony's face wasn't helping either. "I'd offer to get you off now," he said after a long moment staring at Steve's crotch and all but licking his lips, "but if I know you, you'll just be ready to go again long before we get there."

Swallowing back the sound that threatened to escape him, Steve shook his head. "There's more."

"More?" Tony looked intrigued. "You are a man of unplumbed depths. Go on."

Scrubbing briefly at his face with his hands, Steve took a breath and steeled himself. This was no weirder than Tony's math kink. It really wasn't. "When we're alone, I want you to use my brushes to make me come," he blurted out.

Tony looked stunned, and aroused, now. "Brushes," he asked, "meaning the ones you paint with?"

"Separate set," Steve answered, "but yes."

"Why is that hot," Tony mumbled, and Steve could see that he was starting to get hard too. "That should not be as blindingly hot as it is."

They stared at each other for a moment that stretched, their eyes locking and the silence almost thick as acrylic paint. A slow smirk spread back across Tony's face, a devilish look that promised all kinds of satisfaction. He peeled his left glove off, slowly as he could manage. One carefully loosened finger at a time.

Steve bit his lip, feeling his arousal pick up at the sight. "Tony?"

"Hmm?" Tony gave him an almost innocent look, and didn't stop. He folded the glove carefully once it came free, and set it next to him on the long bench seat he'd claimed.

"Tony what do you think you're..." Steve trailed off when Tony delicately used his teeth to loosen the middle finger of his other glove.

"If you haven't figured out what I'm doing by now, you're hopeless," Tony shot back, seductive smirk fully back in evidence. He carefully folded the other glove and set it on top of the first.

Steve swallowed hard, but he made himself wait and watch. It was a show worth appreciating.

A beat later, Tony stood and carefully shrugged his coat off his shoulders. He let it fall to about the middle of his back before he caught it and folded that, too. Picking up the gloves and placing them on top, he caught Steve's eyes, now in nothing more than that gorgeous suit. Turning to face the bedroom at the back of the jet, he asked, "coming?"

There was no way he was turning down an invitation like that.

Steve was on his feet and following his lover before he'd fully processed what he was doing. He didn't regret the decision, though, unconscious as it was. Tony looked good no matter what he wore, but in this suit he looked downright edible. The lines of the jacket showed off his shoulders and trim waist to perfection, and the pants clung to his ass just right.

He only just remembered to grab the case containing his shield and other belongings. He might not need the shield or the sketchbook, but he wanted the brushes.

Following Tony into the bedroom, he didn't realise he'd made a sound until Tony turned and grinned at him, pleased. "Looks good, doesn't it?"

Steve had to clear his throat before he could speak. He didn't manage to tear his eyes away from Tony's hands; his arms were not-quite-crossed in front of him, and his left hand was fiddling with his right jacket sleeve buttons, drawing attention to his strong callused fingers and the outrageously large watch he was wearing.

"I'd call that an understatement," he eventually managed without sounding like the words were being strangled before he could voice them.

Rather than reply verbally, Tony slid the jacket off his shoulders and carefully twitched it into place on a hanger. He might not place too much importance on his own appearance, but he knew the value of looking good for the camera. Steve did too. But that was just one more in a series of increasingly tortuous teases.

Tony looked just as good in his shirtsleeves as he did in the jacket, and they both knew it. Reaching for the cuffs of his sleeves, he carefully set the cufflinks down in a box of similar ornaments he produced out of the armoire. The watch joined them, and then those were carefully set aside as well.

Steve wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. He was fully hard, now, and the elastic of his underwear was starting to chafe. He shifted uncomfortably, and held the case of his things carefully away from his side.

Tony gave him a slow once-over from head to toe, and snickered. "You're ruining the lines of that suit, you know."

"Huh?"

"Those pants are not meant to contain a man of your... stature." Tony winked at him, and Steve blushed.

Any future formal social events with Tony were going to be exquisite pain. Steve just knew it. "Not exactly a voluntary response," he shot back.

"But a very flattering one, nonetheless. I'll just have to wear you out as much as I can before we get there."

Steve snorted. "You think you can?"

"Let's find out." Tony caught his eyes. "You brought your stuff. Does that mean you brought brushes?"

The thought sent a jolt through Steve that made him close his eyes and bite his lip. "And if it does?"

"Does this meet your standards for 'alone'?" Tony was watching him with the sort of glee he usually only got right before they had amazing sex. It was revving Steve up even more, and he thought he might come untouched before he got his own suit off.

He set the case down on the bed wordlessly, and dug in it until his fingers closed on his brush set. He was sacrificing these. He could buy new ones later. He offered them to Tony, setting them on the bed and turning away for a moment to close his case and set it on the floor out of the way. Tony picked up the packet of brushes, just as silent, and turned it this way and that, considering.

Steve took the opportunity to shed his own suit jacket and hang it up. His pants and shirt quickly followed, leaving him in his plain dark blue boxers. The air in the room was cool, and he shivered once. The way Tony was staring at him really wasn't helping. The look of pure want mixed with the interest generated by learning something new about Steve was creating an intensity of feeling in the moment that was almost too much.

When Tony set the brushes back down, he turned to Steve. "Lie down on the bed. And don't touch yourself."

A whine built in the back of his throat, but he didn't give it voice. Slowly, deliberately, Steve settled himself on his back in the center of the mattress and crossed his arms behind his head so he could watch Tony without getting a crick in his neck. He didn't bother taking his boxers off. Tony could do that later.

Tony waited until Steve was comfortable before he continued undressing. Steve could clearly see the line of his hard cock through he pants he still wore, and smirked. "Ruining the lines of your own suit, Tony?"

"Your fault," Tony riposted, starting to work the buttons of his shirt open. "I was fine until you started talking about having a suit kink."

Steve watched as Tony gradually peeled his shirt open to reveal what seemed like acres of lightly tanned olive skin, the arc reactor shining crisply in sharp contrast to the living flesh around it and drawing Steve's attention almost hypnotically for a moment.

Once he was finished with his shirt buttons, Tony left it to hang open at his sides as his hands closed around the waistband of his suit pants, just over the button, and didn't move. Steve made an impatient sound. "Do it," he requested. "Show me how much you're enjoying this."

Tony raised an eyebrow at him. "And here I thought you were the one with the mountain of self-control," he quipped. His hands moved away from his waistband, and he slid the shirt off his shoulders, pausing to straighten it and smooth out the larger creases before he hung it next to his suit jacket.

"Just because I have it doesn't mean I want to use it," Steve countered, his hands fisting around the soft covers as he gave in to the urge to thrust. It rubbed him against the fabric of his boxers, and made for a tease that only served to drive him closer to mindlessness, but it was better than open air. Tony's eyes were like a physical weight on him, and made every sensation seem more intense, from the way his breath felt harsh in his throat to the way his heart was racing, and the unsatisfying tease of his boxers against the head of his cock.

This time Tony's hands did more than just hint. He undid the fastening of his suit pants, and slid them down his legs. Hanging them as well, his deft fingers effortlessly making sure the crease stayed flawless, Tony turned to look over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow at him. "Well," he drawled, "I suppose that means more fun for me. How many times do you think I can make you come in the three and a half hours before we land?"

Steve groaned. "Does that leave us enough time to shower?"

"Nope," Tony laughed at him, unrepentant and gleeful.

"Suppose we'd better have the last round in the shower, then," Steve decided, drawing a steadying breath. Tony was down to his own underwear now: a tiny bright crimson thong that didn't nearly succeed at the task of containing Tony's hard cock. The mere sight very nearly pushed Steve over the edge, and made his hands tighten convulsively on the covers on the bed. "Gonna lose the underwear," he rasped, trying to make it a question.

"Hmm, maybe." Tony stepped over to the bed and perched almost delicately on the edge of the mattress. He ran a hand from the front of Steve's shoulder down to the waistband of his boxers, lingering in the gap between elastic and skin, but not actually touching Steve's cock.

Steve arched up into the contact, wanting more but not quite sure which course of action was most likely to get him what he wanted. "Tease," he grumbled and forced his fingers to unlock, bringing one hand up to pull the straining thong out of the way and taking Tony in hand.

The action got him a hard thrust of Tony's hips and a low moan.

After accepting the touch for a few tugs, Tony pulled back. "Later. You first."

That made Steve smirk. "Only got one in you tonight," he asked, tone as light as he could manage. He could tell that he was starting to sound breathless, and could feel the way his heart was pounding as though he'd just run ten miles, banging against his ribs and making him hyperaware of his own body.

"Quality over quantity," Tony quipped back, staying just out of easy reach. "Besides. I can keep myself under control once we arrive. That means I have plenty of time to drive you wild and make you come, over and over, until you can't get it up again for a while." Steve could only whine, pushed further into his haze by the mental images that conjured, as Tony continued, "and then, when you think you're done, I'm gonna take you out there, in front of the cameras and show you off to everyone. Yeah, Pepper kinda insisted, but I've been thinking about this for a while." Tony's hand finally pulled his boxers out of the way and wrapped around his cock. Steve was so on edge he was coming before Tony had given him more than two pulls. It made him shake, sending shocks of pleasure practically out to his fingertips and making his toes curl. Tony gave him an appreciative look. "And making you come never gets old."

Steve, still fighting for air as he came down, stifled a laugh. "I could say the same."

Tony wasn't done yet, though. He caught Steve's eyes and rolled onto his stomach in the vee of Steve's sprawled legs. "You know, you have a point. I think I'll keep you."

"Good, 'cause I have no intention of letting you slip through my fingers." Steve slid his hands into Tony's hair, enjoying the way his lover pushed into the touch.

"Mmm," Tony hummed happily. "I'm going to have to work to keep you in the style to which you are accustomed, aren't I?"

Steve huffed, half amused and half offended. "If you worked any harder than you do already, you wouldn't have any time left for me," he said, enjoying the way Tony tried to scoff. "I have to fight to get you to myself as it is."

Rather than reply verbally, Tony's hands settled on Steve's hips, and he pulled himself up just slightly. With a decidedly suggestive smirk, he took Steve's still-half-hard cock in one hand, and used the other to pin Steve to the mattress. It was quite effective as stalling tactics went, and made Steve's head thump back down onto the bed. He couldn't hold back the breathless moan, as a feeling not unlike grabbing a live wire flooded through him and his body went taut, somehow primed to go again already.

Tony laughed at him, and upped the ante, taking Steve's cock in his mouth and doing the most sinful things. Steve swore out loud when Tony used his tongue to press the head of his cock against his palate with just the right amount of pressure to make him see stars. "Tony! Oh--"

Tony hummed, pleased, and that only added to the deluge of sensory input.

Steve was getting alternately pushed higher and pulled back by the mix of sensations; the heat of Tony's mouth and the vibrations of his voice sending him deeper into the haze of want, and the slight jolts of almost-pain caused by Tony's teeth catching lightly on his skin pulling him back from the precipice that was suddenly a lot closer than he'd thought it was. "Jesus, Tony," he got out, knowing he definitely sounded out of breath, now. He'd learned that usually asking for what he wanted also got it, with Tony. At least once they were actually having sex. Tony definitely enjoyed teasing him mercilessly during the foreplay. "More," he asked, hopeful.

Tony smirked around him, and took him deep. Weathering the jolt when Steve's cock head hit the back of his throat, he simply waited it out and pushed past it, taking Steve in until his nose was buried in the thatch of blonde hair at the base of Steve's cock.

He'd only done that once before, and it had been amazing, then.

It was even better now. Steve came with a hoarse shout of Tony's name, feeling himself spill right down Tony's throat and not sure what to think when that knowledge sent a strong aftershock through him that made his cock twitch. Tony clearly felt his reaction and liked it; he moaned loudly, not moving to release Steve.

The move earned Tony a few more curses.

And, Steve noted with vague amazement, kept him hard.

Tony, with a gleam in his eyes that suggested he was enjoying every moment, pulled back far enough to take a breath, then simply pulled him back in, swallowing around him and pulling a second, smaller, orgasm out of him. "Fuck! Tony!"

That time, Tony pulled back far enough to let Steve's cock fall from his lips with an obscene pop.

Steve groaned, wanting more but not nearly ready for another round. "Damn."

Tony raised an eyebrow at him and said, his voice hoarse, "that was so hot, I almost came in my metaphorical pants."

Throwing an arm over his face, Steve laughed. "So what now?"

"Now, we wait until you're good again, and then I want to experiment with those brushes of yours."

That sent a shot of lust through Steve that probably would have made him come, had he still been hard. "Sounds like a plan."

They didn't have to wait long, in the end.

Tony had grabbed a towel from the adjoining bathroom, and walked out to scrounge some water and tidbits of food, then proceeded to hand feed everything to Steve. He'd tried to protest, but Tony hadn't been willing to take no for an answer. _'I like it when you lick at my fingers, and this is the perfect excuse to make you do it over and over again,'_ he'd said. That had shut Steve up almost immediately, and he'd taken it as a chance to get some of his own back for the earlier tease, wrapping his lips around Tony's fingers and treating them as though he were trying to pleasure them.

It worked, too. Tony got gradually more flushed with every morsel he fed Steve, until he set the plate aside with a jerky motion and flung himself bodily at Steve.

"Please tell me you're good for the next round, I can't take any more of this," he groaned.

Steve snickered at him. "Go on," he said, still laughing. "Get the brushes. You wanted to experiment."

It was like a dog hearing a whistle. Tony's ears seemed to prick up, and his eyes took on a calculating gleam. "Yes," he said slowly, lingering over the syllable, "that's true."

Still on his back, Steve arranged himself a little more comfortably, straightening his spine and shoulders, and waited. After a long moment, Tony nodded. "Hands behind your head," he requested, and waited until Steve acquiesced before he continued.

Picking up the packet of brushes, he turned it over three times, looking closely at them. Steve wasn't sure if it was a stalling tactic meant to let him regain control of himself or true curiousity. Probably both. When the silence seemed to stretch, Tony asked, "got a favourite?"

It knocked the breath out of Steve and made him hesitate. "Not really? My old set was ruined when they thawed me out, and I've never, err," he cleared his throat, "used these?"

Tony looked at them again and pulled at the tie that held the leather bundle closed. It fell open in his hands, and seeing it happen, Steve couldn't help but think that he had, too, really.

"What is it you like about them," Tony asked, pulling out a wide flat square ended brush and running the soft bristles over his palm.

He'd never really bothered to put a name to it. Steve shrugged. "Feels nice."

"Fair enough," Tony paused to run one finger through the bristles. Steve could see tiny flecks of paint near the base of the brush, and thought dazedly that he really ought to remember to clean them better.

Tony forcibly refocused his attention, though, with a long slow swipe of the brush from the root of his cock all the way to the tip. The bristles were simultaneously soft and prickly, and the feeling sent a shock of heat through Steve that made his cock twitch and his hips thrust up into the feeling without his input.

Tony watched him, avidly. "Feels nice," he repeated, his intonation making it a question.

"Yeah," Steve knew he was rapidly approaching breathless again.

A speculative look on his face, Tony pulled the brush back away from his heated skin, making Steve whine at the loss. What he did, though. Mother and Country.

Taking the brush and flipping it over in his hand, Tony repeated the move on himself, running the brush along the lines of his own cock. "F-fuck! Steve," he panted. "I think I see what you mean."

Just the sight was almost enough to make Steve combust. He swallowed hard, and fisted his hands in his hair until the slight sting brought him a ways back down to earth.

When Tony ran the brush lightly around the crown of his own cock, experimenting, and all but curled forward around it at the feeling, Steve had to speak. "Tony," he tried, and felt the words get caught in his throat. "Come on, Tony, I need more."

That got Tony to wrench himself back on track. Somehow. "Next time," he told Steve, "we're doing this properly, and at length."

He turned back to the brushes, and sorted through them, testing them against his fingers. Steve knew that look; Tony was evaluating. Testing each one to see how it flexed and responded. How the grain of the bristles felt. He couldn't help the twitch of his hips at the thoughts running through his head.

Tony saw it, and huffed, but Steve saw his cock twitch, too.

Steve just knew Tony had to be _aching_ at this point, after holding back for... however long. How he'd held out this long, Steve wasn't sure. Maybe, he thought, he should ask Tony about it later. He certainly seemed to be enjoying himself.

The thoughts evaporated a moment later, though, and Steve drew a hitching breath as the next brush, a delicate fine-tipped little thing with about ten bristles in it, meant for detail work, touched the head of his cock and circled his slit. Tony was watching his face, and pinning his hips with his free hand.

It was the look of concentration that did Steve in. "Tony, oh god," he choked out, and he was coming again, ruining that brush forever.

Tony all but flung the brush aside, not caring a whit where it landed, and waited just long enough for him to come down off the high. "Think you can manage one more," he asked.

"I'll need a minute," Steve replied.

Tony responded by standing, wrapping a hand around his forearm, and hauling him to his feet. He led Steve into the bathroom, saying, "Well, come take your minute in the shower."

Starting the water running, he reached for the little bottles of shampoo and conditioner that had been set out, and stared impatiently at the shatterproof glass until it fogged up promisingly. Steve stepped up behind him, wrapping his arms around Tony's waist and pulling him in close, but keeping his hands carefully away from Tony's cock. "That was pretty amazing, back there."

"It was good for me, too," Tony answered, sounding distracted.

Steve rubbed the tip of his nose at the base of Tony's neck. "Let me make it better?"

"Hell yes," Tony hissed, his voice almost blending with the sound of the water. "Get in here."

With a laugh, Steve let Tony pull him under the spray, positioning him between it and Tony, then set to work. He and Tony had done this once before, too, but it had been a while. Carefully, he guided Tony's hands to the sturdy fixtures, and encouraged him to use them to keep himself upright. "Hands here."

"Your shoulders would work just as well," Tony protested, but acquiesced. 

"Beside the point." Steve cast a glance around, looking for something that they could use as lube, and came up empty. Well. Until Tony waved a small bottle at him. Oh. What he'd taken for shampoo wasn't actually.

Shaking his head in amusement, he took the bottle and poured some of the slick liquid over his fingers, making sure to hold it out of the spray, and brought his hand around to make contact with Tony's skin.

When his fingers made contact, Tony jumped, and Steve's fingers slid much farther down than he'd intended them. Rolling with it, Steve ran his fingers along the delicate skin behind Tony's balls, enjoying the needy whine it pulled out of him, before he trailed his fingers back up to tease at Tony's opening.

That got him a louder whine of his name, and Tony let his head fall forward onto Steve's shoulder, half in the spray of water and half out. It left half his hair slicked down and threatened to run into his eyes; Tony ignored that. A beat later, as Steve pushed a fingertip inside, he felt Tony bite down on the muscle in reach, and it sent an interested twitch through him, even as he shifted just enough to move Tony's face out of the water.

By the time he'd gotten two fingers inside Tony, the whines and whimpers had increased in volume, and Tony had let go of one of his handholds to wrap his hand tightly around the base of his cock, visibly staving off his own climax. Steve was ready to go again, and tempted to rush things. Forcing himself to hold back took a lot more self control than he'd ever have expected such a thing to require, but he managed, working a third finger into Tony and staying carefully away from his sensitive spots.

At length, satisfied, Steve pulled his fingers free and prompted Tony to lube him up.

"Finally," he grumbled, hastily doing so. He followed up the move by hooking his arms around Steve's neck in a clear bid to be picked up and fucked against the wall, and Steve didn't have it in him to resist.

Carefully, he settled Tony against him, making him go up on his toes to accommodate the position, and lining them up. He held Tony there for a long moment, until he started squirming and swearing. "Jesus, Steve, come on. I need it. I want you to bury yourself so deep I can taste you. I want you to fucking put me through this wall--"

Steve had to shut him up with a kiss. Those words were almost too much, and he slowly worked himself in without breaking the kiss. Tony threw his head back after a moment, coming within millimeters of banging it against the tile. What stopped him was the hand Steve had at the back of his head. The impact stung a bit, but that somehow only heightened the sensations of warm wetness and connection.

He'd initially been cautious about doing this without a barrier, but Tony had argued him into acquiescing with logic. It hadn't taken long before Tony had gotten tired of messing around with condoms, and pointed out that he had more than a year's worth of clean tests, and Steve couldn't catch anything anyway, thanks to the Serum.

After the first time without, there wasn't really any going back. For either of them.

The decision was reinforced every time they had sex; it felt amazing. Everything was far more intense when it was skin on skin.

When he was buried to the hilt, he stopped, his breath coming fast, and waited. Tony kept trying to push him into ignoring this step, too, but he was not about to injure his lover. That was a step too far for him, and he'd made sure Tony knew it.

"Move," Tony demanded when he got impatient after a few seconds, and tightened the grip he had on Steve's waist with his thighs, using the leverage it gave him to try to push Steve deeper with his heels.

That single word was enough to send a shudder through him, and Steve gave in to the urge to do just that. He pulled back slowly, and paused for a beat before he thrust himself sharply back in. Tony shouted, writhing in his arms, and tightened around him as the jolt of pleasure went through him. His hands were gripping Steve's upper arms hard enough to leave finger shaped bruises.

It took all of three more thrusts to send Tony over the edge into orgasm, and the intensity of the sensations pulled Steve after him, but he didn't stop moving. He knew how much Tony loved to draw things out as long as he could when he came. That was something he'd done right from the beginning, right from the first time they'd been together.

It took them a few minutes to untangle themselves and get clean.

It took somewhat longer for them to get dressed again. Their suits were intact and only Steve's was wrinkled at all.

Once their pants were back on, Tony raised an eyebrow at him. "We'll be landing in under half an hour. Think you can get through the ceremony, now?"

"As long as you don't go waving brushes at me," Steve said, only half jokingly.

He got the laugh he wanted, as Tony shrugged back into his suit jacket. Thankfully, all the sight did was conjure a warm glow deep inside him somewhere. "I think I can manage that. I'd rather keep that information for myself."


End file.
